Sara vs the Turkey
by Prairie24andMoochiecat2009
Summary: Sara hosts her first Thanksgiving as a married woman. GSR of course!
1. Chapter 1

Sara vs. the Turkey

By: Prairie24 and Moochiecat2009

Disclaimers: We own nothing concerning CSI, and we're certainly not being monetarily compensated. If we owned CSI, things would be very different, for sure, for sure, LOL!

Tags: Humor, Holiday, Romance, Season 10, G. Grissom & Sara S.

Rating: M for Chapter 2. Chapter 1, anyone can read it.

Thanksgiving Day, Las Vegas ,2009:

Sara Sidle was so excited. Her husband, Gil Grissom, had two whole weeks off from his duties as a guest Lecturer at The Sorbonne . And he'd gotten his bow-legged self to Las Vegas, ASAP.

He arrived in the early hours of Thanksgiving Day. 2am, to be precise. It was the last flight into McCarran for the night/morning. Sara spotted him the second he came through the arrival door. He sent her his mega-watt smile; the one he reserved only for her. {Ahem, readers, we're giving them a bit of privacy here Let's say, the greeting was intense}.

Several hours later, Sara awoke and stretched her happy, sleek body. And panicked. "Oh, my God, I've got to do the dinner. I've invited everyone to dinner, at six. Oh, my God, what was I thinking!?"

Sara slewed herself out of bed, glanced back at her sleeping husband (and dog) and went to shower, dress, and start her T-day preparations.

"Okay, okay, I can do this," Sara mutters to herself. It's just turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans. Cath is bringing the cranberry sauce, and her mom, Lily, is doing pumpkin and mince pies. So, don't panic, Just deal with the turkey."

Sara gets the turkey out of the spare fridge. She reads the instructions; a half hour per pound. The turkey is 21 pounds. So, that baby needs to be in the oven, NOW!

Sara gets the bird in the oven. And returns to the bedroom. Gil has awakened, and even with jet lag, he's missing his lady. He reaches up to grab Sara's hand and she responds…." (Imagination, readers, imagination).

Ten hours later, it's just about time for every one to join them for T-Day dinner. Sara is pretty sure she has it all under control…

All the guests are pretty mellow, courtesy of a variety of wines, and other intoxicants.

Sara goes to get the turkey out of the oven. It looks wonderful; browned, and crackling. The side dishes are ready, the desserts are ready, everything is set.

The turkey is absolutely…raw

Authors' Note: The second and final chapter will be up tomorrow. Enjoy!

-Moochiecat and Prairie


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Prairie and Moochiecat do not own CSI, although we wouldn't mind owning Gil Grissom. *smiling devilishly*

Sara vs. the Turkey

Chapter 2

Sara stared in wide-eyed horror at the utterly raw turkey sitting on the kitchen counter in front of her. Raw? How could that be? She'd cooked it according to the directions on the packaging. She had a houseful of guests thinking that dinner was going to be ready any minute and now the turkey wasn't even edible.

Sara was no crybaby, but now tears swam in her eyes. This was her first Thanksgiving married to Gil and her first attempt at a holiday dinner for her "family." She had wanted everything to be perfect, but now it was all ruined thanks to her. White-knuckled, she gripped the edge of the counter and gave the turkey a menacing glare. How dare it try to ruin her perfect holiday celebration?

This was how Gil found her a few minutes later - staring down the raw turkey in the kitchen. "Sara?" he asked quietly, coming up behind her and sliding his arms around her waist. "What's wrong, dear?" He looked around her and saw the condition of the turkey. "Oh..." he said, somewhat at a loss for words.

Sara turned in his embrace. "I cooked it just like the package said, Gil, a half-hour per pound. It weighed twenty-one pounds. I just don't understand why it's not done. The outside looks beautiful." Sara again felt the prickling of tears in her eyes and furiously blinked them back.

Gil's brow wrinkled in thought. "Hmmm...did you thaw the bird out first?"

Sara took a breath so fast she hiccupped and looked up into her husband's blue eyes. "What?"

She looked so cute staring up at him with her teary brown eyes that Grissom couldn't resist kissing the tip of her nose. "You have to thaw the turkey out before you cook it."

Sara almost whined. "But the package didn't say that. You never said that." Sara gave her husband an accusatory glare.

Gil shrugged innocently. "I just assumed that you knew that, Sara."

Sara's eyes narrowed into slits. "I'm a vegetarian, Gilbert. I don't usually cook turkeys. Besides, I'm not exactly used to family gatherings; this is my first." She pulled out of her husband's arms and hurried down the hall to the bathroom, determined not to let her guests see her cry.

When she emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later with a somewhat tenuous grip on her emotions, Gil had already told the guests about the unfortunate demise of the turkey. Catherine slid an arm around Sara sympathetically. "Don't worry about the turkey, Sara. We've still got plenty of food. Besides, the first year I was married to Eddie I burned the turkey to a crisp. It was so tough even the dog wouldn't eat it." A smile lit Catherine's blue eyes at the memory. "It's one of my best memories of my marriage."

Sara's brow wrinkled in confusion. "How is cooking the turkey to a crisp a good memory, Catherine?"

Catherine smiled a sly smile. "I'm sure you and Gil will figure it out. Now, let's go eat; I'm starved." Catherine held her wine glass in one hand and propelled Sara to the dining room table with the other.

Sara's eyes traveled past the faces of her guests seated around their dining room table. No one seemed to mind the absence of the turkey; everyone was smiling and laughing. She gave an inward sigh of relief; maybe the celebration wasn't ruined, although now it could never be perfect.

"Come on, Sara; sit down. We're starving," Nicky called out, brown eyes twinkling at her. He gestured at the chair next to him at the end of the table. Sara avoided her husband's eyes and took a seat. The bowls were passed, plates were filled, and there was good-natured joking and laughing throughout the meal.

Sara never once looked toward her husband; she contented herself with chatting happily to Nick and Greg. Neither of them seemed to care about the turkey. They had thirds on many of the items on the table before declaring themselves too full to eat another bite. Nick leaned back in his chair and groaned, rubbing his stomach carefully. "That was great, Sar," he told his hostess.

Everyone headed to the living room for another glass of wine and another football game. Sara put the food away, but left the rest of the mess to be cleaned up later after their guests were gone. Several hours later, Nick and Greg were the last two out the door. Sara went straight to the kitchen and began loading the dishwasher. Without comment, Gil grabbed the vacuum cleaner and did a quick clean up of the dining room floor getting up all the crumbs that Hank the boxer may have missed.

Gil put the vacuum cleaner away and then went to try to make peace with his wife. She hadn't spoken to him once since their earlier conversation in the kitchen; she hadn't even looked at him. There was nothing Gil hated any more than a frosty silence hanging over the house; he had lived too much of his life in silence.

He found Sara scrubbing furiously at the bottom of the roasting pan. Her back was to him, but he could tell by the set of her shoulders that she was angry. Gil stared at her slender form, thinking about how much he loved his wife and what he could say to make things better. There was always that little niggle of fear in the back of his mind that she would leave him and never come back, not even if he went after her.

He must have sighed out loud because Sara turned around and leaned against the counter, staring resolutely into his face. She chewed her bottom lip anxiously as she stared into his blue eyes. Sara knew the whole turkey fiasco wasn't her husband's fault. How was he supposed to know that she had never cooked a turkey before? Now she felt angry with herself for blaming Gil. She looked down at her sock-clad feet and wiggled her toes nervously.

Suddenly, another pair of sock-covered feet appeared in front of hers and two strong hands ran up and down her arms. "Sara, look at me," her husband's voice said softly.

Sara forced her brown eyes up to meet her husband's blue ones. She was expecting to see anger in those blue eyes or maybe even pity for her lack of a decent childhood, but she saw neither of those things. She saw love. "I'm sorry, Gil," she said in a wobbly, teary voice. "The turkey wasn't your fault."

Gil wrapped his arms around her and pulled Sara into his embrace. She buried her face into his chest and inhaled deeply of his scent that was aftershave, and Thanksgiving dinner, and just plain Gilbert Grissom.

"We should have cooked it together," Gil murmured into her ear. "We work so much better as a team."

Sara laughed against his neck. "We always have." She slid her arms up to wrap them around her husband's waist.

They stood there in the after-Thanksgiving silence of the house, holding one another in the kitchen. Sara shivered as Gil's hand slipped up the back of her t-shirt and splayed against the smooth skin of her back. Sara began planting tiny kisses along her husband's jaw line and growled as his hand moved to the front of her shirt.

A short time later, Sara lay next to her husband in bed, her sleek form curled around him. She ran her long fingers through his sweaty curls and planted a lazy kiss against his lips. "Now I understand what Catherine meant about having good memories of the Thanksgiving when she burned the turkey."

Gil quirked an eyebrow at his wife. "How so?" he asked, allowing his fingers to dance down her arm and land on her hip possessively.

Sara rolled on top of her husband with a smirk on her face. "I'll always remember making up."

The End


End file.
